


80's Love Song

by MissionFailure



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Humor, M/M, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-04-03 03:09:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4084354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissionFailure/pseuds/MissionFailure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bro takes up reading trashy romance paperbacks as a hobby to harass Dave who just happens to be directing a movie based on a novel by one of Dirk’s favorite authors; John. Dave calls in Bro to help when production begins to fall apart due to personality conflicts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Fucking Novel Idea

'It' had started at Dave’s high school graduation. When Dirk had overheard some moms talking about their favorite paperback trash. A small group hanging out in the hallway after the end of the ceremonial torture fest. One mom had even been decked out in curlers and a pink bathrobe. Needless to say her outlandish outfit had caught Dirk's eyes, and he hadn't been one to pass up an opportunity to embarrass the shit out of Dave.

It only took fifteen minutes of standing with them enjoying pointless conversation while they waited for family before Dirk had all the info he needed.

Of the group, there had been a token forty-two year old 'former' stripper who insisted she could still “work a pole”, his pole in fact - but he'd declined that in the nicest way possible, and a lady who suffered from smokers lung that worked in the nearby gas station who seemed friendly enough.

Then there was Mrs. Curlers; part time mom, full time trailer park manager, beer served - not shaken.

Mrs. Curlers just happen to have a copy on hand from on of her favorite series for him to read at the time, as if Dirk would bother to read it the first place, let alone return it. Smoker mama had provided information on books and authors that would cater to his taste in romantic partners after he had hinted about same sex genres. This being when Stripper 'thinks she's a tease' made several efforts to push her number on him with no luck.

Dave’s reaction when he finally came around to leave the event sealed his fate.

Dirk had made a point to stand in the center of the group reading ‘Winds of Furious Lust' courtesy Mrs. Curlers. Just outside of elbow grabbing range and just inside enough of the loud talking of the group for a convenient excuse to ignore his little bros attempts to get his attention.

Unfortunately for Dave the trap was to well planned.

Stripper mom had dragged Dave in for the most violent session of cheek pinching, pet name calling, and gushing that put aunts to shame around the globe. The show had been very enjoyable until her own daughter came by to collect mom with hushed embarrassment about touching _the cool kid_.

Ah yes, those ladies had been Dirks angels of parental torture. Guiding him into the wonderful world of trashy romance novels, a nice little bit of extra income from writing reviews, and years of harassing the shit out of his brother. Shipping smuppets would have been a total waste of time, effort, and money anyways.

But things didn't go as planned in the long term.

Dave didn’t visit during college holidays or for school breaks. Instead choosing to spend that time with the Egbert's. Even after college graduation, which Dave made a point not to invite him, he decided to stay in good ‘ol Cali to start his career.

He'd been okay with all of this at first.

Dave had made a point to talk with him on pesterchum and had weekly phone calls, so it wasn’t like the two hadn’t been staying in touch during Dave's college years. It wasn’t like Dirk didn’t know what a crappy older brother, guardian, or whatever the fuck he was to his little bro. Because he did have the time and money to go out and visit instead of placing that expectation on Dave. He just...

...didn't.

Well, that was until Dave had gotten solid work in the film industry and the conversations had gotten shorter, less frequent, and had in honestly stopped all together over a year ago.

That Dave wasn’t going to answer the phone, or bother to call back. Being simply forgotten and not worth the effort.

The emotional slap of reality had been what pushed an ironic amusement into an 'actual' hobby.

It was reflected in the 'way' Dirk had attacked the apartment after the realization.

There was contemplation of angrily destroying the place, but considering how long it been trashed for, it would only reminded him of when Dave had been younger.

So instead he had tossed all the shit weapons, the futon, cinder block shelving, and piles of other junk into the apartment dumpster. The empty spaces revealed just how nasty the place had gotten after decades of living like a bachelor with a kid. Cleaning had ended up being the healthier outlet for the hurt and self hatred.

Buying an actual bed to put in Dave’s five years empty old room and use it his _**own**_ again had helped also. Dirk had extended the same furniture treatment to the rest of the apartment.

The audio equipment, including his ass, because damn was that couch plush, has been grateful for the upgrade. Not to mention it was nice to have proper shelves to store books, the few smuppets he kept, and actual quality weapons.

So, to say that things between Dirk and Dave was tense and emotional would be the exact reason he'd been sitting at the kitchen table staring at his cell phone since checking out the news this morning.

The stylized cat clock hung on the kitchen wall, because fuck yeah, meowed.

It was now seven at night and Dirk had been losing the call or don't call game for the last nine hours.

Ten hours ago the TV announced Dave was directing ‘80’s Love Song’.

It was going to be based on the first book of the trilogy and likely part of a movie trilogy.

It was the authors response to a fanfiction written about their first released book series ‘Action Hero’.

A fanfiction romance novel of a fanfiction since Dirk already considered the original a throwback romance series for cheesy 90’s action movies; Yoah dog, I heard you liked.

A novel series so bad, so chock full of euphemisms and metaphors, of horrible cringe worthy descriptions of sex, and of outlandishly styled muscle bound men and kick ass alpha females that everybody loved it. It was so beyond ironic, it had been propelled into the heavens as a legendary smut series of godly terribleness.

Dirk could quote the work by heart and even acted out a few of the cheesy scenes while taking a shower from time to time.

It made him happy, and that was something he’d hold onto if he could, because few other things made him feel that painfully good anymore.

For months now the daytime talk shows and entertainment had been full of the buzz after the last novel in the series released. Just how bad it was. How excited people would be for a movie. Who should act for which character. Lamenting that no director or production company seemed to be interested. How much money the novel had made in the first month. If they would ever be lucky enough for the author to do a signing. Even some rumors about the publisher being offered insane sums of money for a signed copy. The true identity of the author Fuka N. Cumming.

That was the cherry on top of the horrible novel cake. Nobody aside from the publisher knew the authors real name, who she was, or why they were hiding from the lime light. He could give it a few good guesses though considering the genre and style of the work. No legit author would want to claim the work and risk tainting any other serious writing endeavors.

And just like the rest of the fanbase, Dirk had been waiting on information since the book hit stores.

Until this morning, when the news announced non other than Dave Strider of SbaHJ would be taking on the project _after_ having spoke with the author.

He wanted to call Dave. Tell him how thrilled and proud of him he was. Wanted to ask him what the author was like. Talk to him about what he was going to do with the movie. Maybe drop hints about wanting to meet the lady for lunch sometime and get to meet one of his favorite authors.

Instead Dirk been sitting there thinking about how he got to this situation and just how exactly Dave would react to calling out of the blue again after so long of not talking.

Dave had been doing great, it'd been easy to keep tabs on him as such a public figure...

Would he be to busy to talk again? Not bother to call back like the last time he left a message? Would he yell and scream about all the years Dirk had raised him wrong finally? Would he just hang up or not answer the phone? Was his number even the same still?

The cat clock meow to inform all withing ear shot it was now eight o’clock.

Dirk figured he could try to talk himself into attempting again tomorrow. Now was probably a good time to make some food to get his mind off of the road of self deprecation.

He supposed it would be another lazy Friday night, and even if it’s been a while since Dirk had a good hot pizza, there was the off chance Mike might call him into work tonight. So frozen stir fry and left over steamed rice would have to do. It was really kind of pathetic that after all these years the old guy still had trouble finding a kid to take over the turntables and do a proper job of not sucking.

More ironic being that Dirk's forty-four year old ass was the only one good enough to bring in the college age kids who buy the booze that keeps the club profitable. Not that he mind the extra cash, it just showed how sad the competition and creativity of the younger generation had. Then again the retro scene has been making an effort to pop back, so he supposed it only makes sense a retro guy like himself could spin the right tunes.

About half way cooking the skillet of veggies and the microwaved rice his cell phone decided it must have Dirk's attention back at the table. He half assed a flashstep to keep the food from burning and shoulder the pone to his ear.

“It’s only nine-thirty Mike, what did you do to the new kid?” Dirk scoffed. “Never mind I'll see for myself. I’ll be at work at ten.” He hung up and tossing the phone on the counter not giving it a second thought from normal routine until the phone started ringing again. Maybe Dirk shouldn’t have made it a habit to hang up on the guy before he responded, not that he really cared.

Rolling his eyes he answered it again. “What man. Did you decide to keep this one? Called to fire me? Are we breaking up Mike?” You can’t help the chuckling. “Do I need to do a Mike check?”

The long suffering sigh in return made him aware that’s not who called. Dirk serious the fuck up fast unsure if it’s a coincidence or totally ironic. “Dave?”

“Bro.” It’s a bit hard to read his tone over the phone but he’s seems tired. “Told you I’d call back… it just took a while.” That was a fucking huge understatement. “I’m… uh… I’m sorry bro.”

“Been a really long time ‘lil man…” It’s takes a minute to turn off the stove and throw everything on a plate, but Dave waits. “…it’s good to hear from you.”

Dirk figured he must have been holding his breath from how much air hits the receiver. “You’re not mad at me? I thought for sure you’d be threatening to kick my ass like a pissed off Mr. Miyagi or go off on me being an ungrateful little shit that deserved to have his ass left on earth. I haven’t called home in forever... are you okay Bro?”

Okay? He was more than okay in fact if the smile currently hurting his face could be an indication. Everything is going much better than his anxiety earlier in the day would have led him to believe.

“Yeah, I’m okay Dave. I heard you got yourself a new project to work on. One of my favorite writers to, way to go.” He was already mumbling under his breath and it made Dirk glad that some things about him never changed, could almost hear him fidgeting as well. “I know that I never say this, but I’m proud of you Dave. You did good ‘lil dude.”

“Thanks Dad. Seriously, should I harass John into letting me know when you’re calling his dad for lessons?” So much for pride, Dirks was just shot and dragged out back behind the barn to have a talk with Dave’s shotgun wit.

He must have realized it though. “Shit. Bro I didn’t mean it like that, really. Fuck.” It was a weak effort, and he was going to tell him that it was okay but Dave didn’t give him the chance. “Bro I need your help.”

“You have my attention.” Because he never asked for help, certainly never thought he would considering the lengths he’d gone to in the past to avoid doing so.

“This new movie I’m working on. You know all about it right? I know you’ve been reading that crap for years now so I assume you still do. Don’t deny it, I came across that review you put online.” It wasn't the usual level of word vomit, but it did allow the worried tension to fuck off.

“Yes, and?” Dirk was not even going to ask how he came across that, considering where it was posted.

“I need you to play Luke in the movie.” Wait, what?

“What? Why?” Was Dirk's smooth and clever fucking response to being offered a crazy ass fantasy on a silver plate, way to go bro.

“Because if you don’t, the movie most likely wont get made. You know the book, and I don’t think I have to tell you why every actor I’ve called in the last week has refused.” It was kinda cute how huffy he was getting about this. “And like fucking hell am I going to get some crappy no-name actor to play that role. I’d like to continue making movies. Fucking thank you…”

“Yeah, okay I can understand why no one would want to get type caste into _that_ kinda role. But why the fuck would you want me to do it? I’m not an actor, wouldn’t that put me in the crappy no-name group?” Yeah sure Dirk could play a role in small time porn or some indie bullshit movie, but he wasn't interested in acting and this was going to be a huge fucking movie. “Plus you haven’t seen me in… what, like seven years? What the hell man. How the hell do you even know if my body is right for the part?” Why would Dave want to market him like that.

“Because I need your help, so you’re going to help me because I asked. I know you’re still in shape. Probably still doing the same routine every fucking day like you did when I lived there.” That little shit has to be talking with Sarah down at the bookstore. “You are Luke, Luke is you. Be Luke Bro. I will force you so help me I will find a way.”

“Fine. I’ll play your fucked up main character.” He was not happy. This was work he never wanted, this was going to be notoriety he never wanted. Why couldn’t life let him be a lazy old man? “But on one condition…”

“Already know what it is,” That smug ass little shit! “I already set up lunch for you and John when you fly in to start filming on the eighteenth.” Wait, what?

“Why would I want to have lunch with your friend?” He couldn’t be serious. Dave wasn’t implying what Dirk thought he was, was he? “Also that’s really fast to start filming, In two weeks, seriously?”

“You know why Bro. I’m dead serious. Yes, it’ll be on the eighteenth because I want to get this done and over with as quickly as possible before the media catches wind of it. We’ve been working on this much longer than people realize.”

Holy shit.

Shit.

Fuck.

No really.

Shit fuck, holy shit!

“Okay then…” This was happening. “I’ll see you in a few weeks then.” he was going to be Luke, in a movie, that will be in theaters, based on a book written by John. His favorite author, who literally wrote the book on the movie he's going to be in.

Mind equal blown.

“Cool. I’ll e-mail you the information for the plane tickets.” Man did that little cuss sound fucking smug, and old habits demanded that Dirk needed to fix that.

“Hey Dave?”

“Bro?”

“Tell Sarah I said ‘hi’ next time you call her. I won't be coming by the store for a while.” The choked cough was all he needed to know he'd knocked him down from his high horse.

“Okay, well later Bro.” The quick recovery earned a breathy laugh from Dirk.

“Later ‘lil man.” The line clicked off but Dirk held the phone to his ear a bit longer before tossing it on the counter again.

The clock meowed that it was now ten.

His food was fucking cold. In two weeks Dirk was going to be Luke, see his brother, and talk to John about his book.

The book John wrote… The BOOKS he wrote... HOLY SHIT! He needed to read them again.

Right.

Now.

 

\-----

 

 

He. Is. So. Fucking. Done.

 

It's five in the god damned morning.

 

It's five in the god damned motherfucking morning and Dirk is at the Houston airport.

 

It's five in the god damned motherfucking gonna cut a bitch because it's morning and he's going through airport security.

 

Dirk figured checking luggage and just bringing his wallet, phone, and a tablet to read during the flight would leave his bases covered. To bad he over looked the one thing on the tip of his nose.

“You're kidding right?” He clenched his fist but didn't help the anger go away.

“No sir I'm afraid we are going to have to confiscate the glasses as a potential weapon.” The TSA security guard was eyeballing the eye wear like a kid in a candy store.

“I want to speak to your supervisor.” Like hell was this greedy jackass gonna filch his glorious shades.

The guard flinched ever so slightly. “Well we can just have you send them through the x-ray machine and have you pack them in a carry-on or...” Dirk was having none of it.

“Supervisor now. Please and thank you.” The stare down and giggling from the other guards gave Dirk the impression this wasn't the first time this idiot had tried this shit and a bit of karma was about to deliver itself to a most deserving individual via a Strider. As the agent sulked off the short agent sporting a baseball cap and a brown ponytail standing behind one of the metal detector gates gave him a thumbs up.

“Your good to go sir, I can see those are medically required and I'll be giving him a talking to later. Enjoy you flight.” He nodded back her direction.

“I assume you're the supervisor?” She nodded an affirmative and Dirk tipped his own hat with a gloved hand as he started walking towards the gates. “Thank you ma'am. I appreciate your attention and registering my complaint. Have a good day too.” She scoffed, shook her head, and waved him off.

It was five something in the morning but it suddenly wasn't so shitty because he had just bought a coffee and was settling into a seat at the gate. Nothing could be better than sipping a hot drink and reading up on the latest chapter of a newly released romance novel.

Except maybe overhearing the 6 o'clock news playing on the terminal TV that had suddenly switch over to entertainment updates.

'And rumor has it that production is off to a rocky start for '80's Love Song'. A source close to the project said that the casting was completed without public knowledge and the lead actor has already quit due to… ' Dirk smirked at the series of paparazzi pictures floating across the screen of an angry actor yelling, stomping, and tossing his arms around like a childish ass in front of an unamused Dave.

'Oddly enough the production has announced the Director's own brother will be stepping into the role...' That slapped the smirk off his face quicker than an angry hooker not getting paid and Dirk couldn't help but glance around the gate seats. Checking that nobody recognized him or for paparazzi hunting him down.

Aside from a boy pointing at him while trying to get his moms attention about “man's pointy glasses, momma, momma look'em”, no one looked at him oddly. It wasn't like the news had shown his face, but already Dirk couldn't help but imagine a foreboding presence looking over his shoulder.

“Dear Paranoia, go fuck yourself, sincerely D...”

'WILL PASSENGERS BOARDING FLIGHT NUMBER...' Dirk was amused by the series of well-timed interruptions.

Glad that at the end of the day he'd be in California and seeing Dave in person since, well... practically since the kid had graduated high school.

 

 

\-----

 

 

Nothing could be worse than becoming accidentally famous, aside from maybe seeing your magnum opus being butchered. “Dave, you have to talk to him. He's going to ruin the character! Adam needs to smirk and smile more. He's making Buck into a serious person and he's really just an aloof oblivious dork!”

If John had any inclination his writing would have become so popular he never would have written his first story, let alone a publishing contract or a movie deal. To be fair he'd fought the movie as long as he could until both his editor and Dave had worn him down.

John was pacing the hotel room he was temporarily using in town for the duration of the movie. He'd rather be at Dave's but the studio had insisted he stay at a hotel because of his anonymity clause in the contract. He was sure there was a way to work around that however. It was a nice hotel... he just hated being by himself and not being able to review the test footage in person. John felt the echoed delay on processing work was part of the problems with getting this shit on the road, done, and over.

“God damn it...” Dave's long suffering sigh from the other end of the line made John flinch. The poor guy really didn't deserve to be in the middle of the train wreck the movie production had become. Yet at the same time he was the person pushing to get the movie made in the first place. Some crazy way to pay his brother back for taking care of him when their parents weren't around to do the job or such.

“Look, John... you know after the last time you corrected his method he threatened to quit the project just like Chris did.” Another long suffering sigh and an exhausted growl filled the ear piece. “Where the hell am I going to find another beefy dude to play this role? You know how these guys are about their reputation... Fuck you won't even come on set to tell them in person! And as much of a friend you are I still don't understand the way you think about things one hundred percent.”

“I'll come on set then.” John chewed on his bottom lip. It would break part of the contract, but since he had been the person to suggest it this time...

The silence dragged on, neither one of them hanging up or bothering to say anything because the quiet spoke for their thoughts. Are you sure? Yes I'm sure. I don't want to force you. It's okay, I need to do this. So on and so forth for a good ten minutes.

“After I'm done here I'm picking you up for lunch.” Dave huffed. “We can talk about it more then.” He was giving John an out, but he had already made up his mind. It was his work and he was going to have to own it eventually if he liked it or not... maybe they could both play it off as Dave just having his friend help him with the film because of the problems. He'd been on set when Dave was working on a SbaHJ so maybe it wouldn't seem too obvious he was the author. John let out his own long suffering sigh to combat against Dave's frustration.

“I'll pack up and stay with you while the filming is going on if that's okay?” It would be better than hanging out in this room with only the TV and work to distract him. They could relax and hang out at Dave's house playing games and watching movies when not working.

More silence, this time, less informative.

“You know my bro is staying with me.” Dave sounded concerned.

How had John forgotten that? “It should be cool. Right?”

“Make up your mind at lunch. I don't intend to pussy foot around my own place because of two fucking elephants sitting in my house that I really don't have the will or want to deal with. One pachyderm is enough for me thank you kindly, but if you two hit it off and can distract me from the shit storm three ring circus I've got going on I'll gladly put up with both of you holding each other's tails while walking around in circles. It'll let me focus on the fucking lion tamers poking the cats with sticks and the clowns making babies cry. A regular cotton candy popcorn shit storm. Not to mention the ticket takers....”

“Dave.” His friend really was stressed out to fall back into old rambling habits like this.

“John?”

“It's gonna be okay, we can work on set to sort this mess out together. I'm sure your brother will help sort out some of it too.” John couldn't help the chuckle. “What's the worse that can happen? The movie gets canceled and you can move onto a different project with less drama.”

“John.” Dave sounded slightly relieved and less anxious.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks man, I mean it. I'm glad you're my friend.” The honesty took him back a bit, but it wasn't unwelcome or even entirely that unusual if John thought about it.

“No worries. Hey! By the way how much longer are you going to be at the airport? Not that I mind hanging out with you on the phone so people will leave you alone but I do want to finish up the last few pages of writing you asked me to do on the script. I'm working on the monologue between Chuck an...”

“The flight just landed so I'll hop off now. Print out the script and bring it with you.” He wasn't mad about being interrupted, John'd gotten used to that years ago, but it was a bit frustrating. “I might also ask for an alternate ending because you know how nuts the readers get and that'll create a good buzz of controversy for the news to feed on when... hey I gotta go. I'll give you a call when I head your way.”

“Later.” John supposed now was a good time to shove all his travel shit back into there designated bags... but he was going to go down to the hotel gym and exhaust the anxiety out of his body first. He figured there was enough time for that and a quick shower before the Striders picked him up.

 

 

\-----

 

 

Dave turned back away from the windows facing the car pick up lanes suddenly noticing his brother standing there looking at him calmly as he talked to John. “...hey I gotta go. I'll give you a call when I head your way.”

Dirk was staring him down with a smirk... Dave hadn't really been paying attention as he walked around the baggage claim figuring that it would take his brother a good while to come off the plane and grab his bags. Seeing his bro in person for the first time in a long while caught him off guard.

“Sup?” Dave pushed his mirror shades up to sit on his head and lifted his chin towards Dirk with a smirk. He didn't want to admit it, but seeing his bro again was making him stupidly happy despite the fact this was probably the first time they were eye to eye height wise. Guess he'd grown a few more inches without realizing it after high school.

“You just gonna stand there looking cocky, or're you gonna give me a fist bump?” Dirk was giving him 'that look' over his shades a big grin breaking his face his fist raise mid body for a brotherly bump.

Dave shuffled his feet awkwardly swaying his head back and forth before blowing a frustrated raspberry and ignoring the hand to dive in for an awkward hug. “M'sorry for being a lame shit.” Mumbled out of his mouth sitting on Dirk's shoulder, doing his best to ignore the way the shades on his head were getting caught up in the corner of Bros shitty anime ones.

“You're not lame.” Dirk grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back to arms length distance. “Hell you're doing rather well off for a person who thinks they're lame.” He was looking him up and down shaking his head at the custom suit he was currently wearing making a joking cat call whistle. “Nice shoes where can I get a set of those?”

Dave just shook his head.

Despite everybody's best effort he would never be able to accept considering himself actually cool in any way. A lame tool yes. Cool? Hell no.

“Where's the rest of you bags. Can't have you leaving the airport without all your shitty toys and 'other' toys.” It was a bit odd to see his Bro with just with a backpack of what looked innocently like clothes and hygiene stuff.

Dirk just picked it up from his feet and shrugged the pack over shoulder. “I'm kinda old for that shit now.” Dave gaped and he rolled his eyes. “I keep nice stuff now and it's all at home where it belongs. If you got stuff for a round or two of play that's cool but I'm not here to harass your ass. Last I checked, you asked for me to help out.” Bro was looking at him expectantly now, head cocked to the side, mouth and eyebrows quirked up in questioned concern.

He closed his mouth. Why they hell wouldn't his brother change, he had changed a lot himself. So had John, Rose, hell Jade, they all had! This was just reality reminding him of that. Fuck. He should have visited, should have stayed in contact. Should have been a better brother to his only family.

Bro cleared his throat.

Oh yeah, they were supposed to go grab John, Dave smirked. “Let's go hop in my car and we'll have a conversation about your favorite person.” Dirk's eyebrows shot up to his hairline so fast Dave couldn't repress the bark of a laugh that broke out of him as he waved for his brother to follow.

The poor paparazzi waiting outside in the parking lot didn't know what hit them.

 

 

\-----

 

 

Dirk was enjoying the leg room riding shotgun afforded him after the cramped bullshit of flying. Walking had helped a bit, so did sneaking up and shocking the shit out of some photo snappers, and stretching out on the hood of Dave's car. But this! Car seat pushed all the way back, with the back of the seat laid all the way down, legs fully extended, this did the trick.

Dave's rambling cadence was slowly lulling him to sleep sadly, he hadn't been this relaxed or content in a good long while. Apparently the kid was still tickled pink with amusement from the parking lot shenanigans. He hadn't even bothered to talk about John like he said he was going to. Choosing instead to ramble near none stop about the looks on the guys faces and commenting on how the media was going to lose their minds over the photo op and posing Dirk had done for the hilarity of it.

Attempts to snap him out of the rambling by asking about the orange katana wedged between the shifter and front passenger seat, hell, even asking where they were driving too or what all Dave had been doing the last few years hadn't snapped him out of it. Twenty minutes into the word vomit session slash driving, he'd given up and just let the waves of euphemisms and descriptions wash over him like a white noise ocean wave meditation CD.

That was until the drivers side door slamming shut woke his ass up forty minutes later from an unplanned nap.

Groggily Dirk popped the car seat back up to the proper position and dragged his ass out of the car messing with his hair and fixing his ball cap as he followed a good twenty paces behind Dave's trek out of the parking garage into the attached hotel. Apparently the walkway and doors entered on the second level of the place.

Dirk didn't bother to keep pace as his brother rushed agitatedly inside and down the stairs just inside the door off the balcony into the hotel foyer. Instead, he walked in the door and looked at the gym setup through the glass wall stretching down the length of the balcony walkway stopping off at a cluster of elevators.

It had a nice collection of equipment but was mostly empty aside from an guy in his senior years making his way out, a lady on a treadmill watching the TV on the wall attached to the garage, and a younger muscle dude at the squat rack facing away towards the windows letting sunlight filter into the place.

Dirk figured he'd just enjoy the view of watching the guy work out until Dave got back with John. The guy was wearing bike shorts and a sweaty tank top leaving nothing to the imagination. So Dirk crossed his arms and leaned against the arm rail near the stairway.

In an odd way it reminded him of a scene from one of John's books where two of the characters had a arm wrestling match over the affections of one of the females in the book. It hadn't ended well since the lady didn't take kindly to the macho bullshit and wrestled both guys under the table. He hadn't looked at body builders the same way since. The book had been a good read despite the cheesy scenario.

A good ten minutes had passed by and Dirk had started a small mental funeral since the guys appeared to be done with his workout and he could no longer enjoy the lovely view of a nice ass as it pumped iron.

He could hear Dave petulantly stomping his way back up the stairs with a mumbling tirade at the same time the guy was leaving the gym towards the elevators. Dirk turned his head to watch his brother climb the last few steps. Dave turned to meet his face and yelled. “JOHN!” He was about to ask what the hell, but realized that he was calling for the person standing behind him. Dirk did a double take between the two, raised a fisted thumb, pointed over his shoulder towards the guy.

“THAT'S John?” Not even bothering to keep the confusion out of his voice.

“Yeah I'm John.” Said a voice way closer than he expected. “Sorry, I forgot my phone upstairs. I'll go grab a fast shower and my bags and meet you guys back here. Can you check me out-” Dirk already had. “-down stairs Dave?”

Dave huffed, “Hurry up jerk. We're not gonna wait on you all day.” and stomped his way back down to the lobby leaving the two of them. Dirk was looking John up and down on the front side this time.

“Not bad. You look pretty good.” He'd intended it as a compliment and less as flirting.

“Thanks, not half bad yourself.” John winked and cocked his head with a smirk, preening like a peacock from the attention and rocking back and forth on his heels.

Dirk barked out a laugh uncrossing his arms to give a firm pat to John's back, moving it up to squeeze at an obviously sore shoulder. “Oh man! We are gonna have fun, I can already tell.” His face was starting to hurt from smiling as he used the arm to shove a cocky John off towards the elevators. “You better go grab your shit before you lose it kid.”

“Hey, I'm not a kid anymore.” John shook his finger while walking backwards. “Don't call me that or I get to call you old man.”

He scoffed, Dirk may be that, “I'm old enough to be your dad kiddo.” but that didn't mean his sense of humor was dead.

John scowled at the open elevator doors waiting on him before smirking. “Alright then.” He turned and looked at Dirk with the biggest shit eating grin. ”I'll just have to call you daddy then.” John waved a sassy hand and entered, the elevator doors nearly closing on his fingers.

Dirk covered his moth with a gloved hand trying to keep the giggles and smiling from hurting him too much. It took a good while but he had mostly gotten it under control by the time Dave had made his way back up stairs to stand next to him to wait on John.

They were both enjoying each others company and the comfortable silence when John finally made his way back out of the elevators wearing less reveling clothing and dragging a roll on luggage case with a gym bag balanced on top. He wasn't as dressed up as Dave, but the slacks and polo shirt didn't look nearly as dude bro as Dirk's out fit. Probably because his collar wasn't popped up.

John walked up and parked his bags in front of them. “Well, should we go get some food then?”

Dirk moved and held open the door to the garages so the bags would make it through easier, waving at them both to get a move on. “After you kiddos.”

John stood up straighter and nodded at him as he walked through the door. “Thanks daddy.”

The look on Dave's face. Hell, the balls on John! Dirk doubled over and died laughing.

 

 


	2. Poser Production

 

It was about ten minutes into the drive to the burger joint before Dave could pull his brain back from What the Fuckville, USA. Even though he'd played it off as being cool and chill while loading everybody into the car. Dave was still trying to make sense of what had happened between the two, what he'd heard, and witnessed. Dave hadn't seen Bro lose it that bad since that embarrassing time he didn't pay attention and used glue instead of lotion.

Both Bro and John were still suffering from off and on laughing, wheezing, and occasional giggling fit depending on where or who they looked at.

He glanced at the rear view mirror to look at John sitting behind him. Bro didn't want to give up the leg room and move his seat forward so he could sit on the other side but it wasn't an issue. John was looking out the window with a dumb grin on his face. Dave gave a glance to the side, Bro was still fighting back a smile, his elbow propped up against the window and the attached hand was making a failure of an effort to nonchalantly cover his mouth.

Dave cleared his throat. “So...” They both turned his direction sitting less relaxed, but no less amused than before.

“Not gonna say I'm angry, upset, or that I even really want to know the entire back story plus extended edition blueray HD quality replay on exactly what went down with who, when, or why the fuck...” He could already hear the repressed breathy wheeze near whine from behind him and the nose controlled deep inhale from next to him. “...but lets just say, hear me out on this, that I'd like to know the proper fucking context of events and words expressed prior to us having mental breakdowns.” Dave raised a hand from the wheel and waved it confusedly while he shrugged to make the point more paramount. “AKA: What the fuck was that shit guys?”

Thankfully instead of the renewed combustion of laughter and hilarity he had expected to assault his poor hearing, they had apparently worked it out during the last however long between the event and current moment in time. Bro wiggled up into a straighter sitting position, using his hands to help talk as John leaned forward towards the front to better listen and perhaps help with any details.

“Well, you see...” Bro drawled his words accusingly, shaking a finger towards the back of the car. “Apparently YOUR friend here doesn't like being called a kid.”

“Well, YOUR brother told me he's old enough to be my dad.” John shrugged it off. “Like that's a good excuse or something.”

“Well... he is.” Dave hadn't contemplated his brother's age that way before but it was amusing. From Bro's repressed giggling he found the entire exchange just as amusing.

Well, well, well...

“Don't defend him like some weird brotherly white knight Dave.” John was trying to admonish him, but it wasn't very effective.

“Yeah, no need to defend me like some sorta princess.” The finger that had been pointing at John now had it's sights on Dave. Super effective.“I'm plenty able to hold my own.” The accusatory finger swung back to the original target, alleviating some of the Pavlovian anxiety Dave had from being on the receiving end when causing trouble as a kid.

”So anyways!” Bro cleared his throat and looked over the top of his shades at John daring him to continue his interjection mid mouth movement. “This comedian over here, decides that the proper response to that fact of life, is to call me 'daddy'. Like some sorta form of embarrassment to prevent me from calling him 'kiddo' is gonna fucking work.” Dave could FEEL the shit eating grin from behind him and a quick peek in the mirror confirmed it.

“Problem is though...” The grin fell like a penny in a quiet room and Bro leaned away to face the road ahead of them, both arms now crossed behind his head. “... I like being called daddy.”

It was like the grin had up and divorced John, taking all the savings, half the yearly income, announced it was going to marry the one person that could properly please it in the bedroom, that just also happened to be it's former high school sweetheart it had already been cheating with; Bro.

Dave's had to force himself to take the next exit off the highway despite the fact they were still a ways off from the one they were supposed to take.

He stopped at the red light behind another car making a left turn, closed his gaping mouth because he didn't feel hungry for flies, and did what any sibling in his spot hearing this shit would do. “SHUT. THE FUCK. UP!”

Bro grinned at him with a shrug, “It's true though!” turned back to John, “Ain't that right kiddo?” and shattered any dreams Dave had of mental sanity during the next three months of filming.

“Oh! YOU! You are so fucking ON...” No. “... Daddy~” No, no, no, and no. Dave wasn't going to put up with this shit. He had already put up with a large amount of shit, practically shoveling it for a living, but he was not, repeat, was not going to put up with this shit.

Then the car sitting behind them honked angrily because the light had changed and they weren't moving.

It's known that sometimes the best emotional and mental stress relief, is to go on an angry tirade. So that was exactly what Dave did.

 

The entire rest of the drive.

 

 

\-----

 

 

He thought it was a shame he and Bro couldn't keep the banter going due to Dave's minor meltdown. It hadn't really phased John to much, or apparently Bro for that mater, simply because of past experience. Last time John had seen a similar scene from Dave was before college graduation during finals week.

Plus, if Dave's body language while he huffed and puffed catching his breath after getting out of the car was any indication, it had been a well-needed stress relief.

John was failing at repressing amused giggling over the name of the joint, True Burger. The one True Burger to rule them all, and in the fartness, bind them. It just had such a good... ring to it. He couldn't fathom why his friend would choose a spot like this, but he couldn't complain.

They took their time moseying inside the place, ordered food, some booze, and just sat there at a table eating and drinking for a while. The silence was comfortable and the company didn't feel awkward for it, despite all the shenanigans earlier. It gave John some time to relax and make mental notes on how to wedge the prior incident into, either the new ending for the movie, or as an entire new book.

He discarded the alternate ending quickly, as it was just to improbable for the characters personalities already established. It would definitely work better for a new book. Dave could be the uptight wall street mogul Max, John could be a high school friend working as barista Tom, and Bro could be the main character coming to New York for the first time, trying to make it big in the world some way. Kevin would be a good name, or even Jacob? Huh, that was weird... “Hey Bro, what's your name?”

He took his shades off and tossed them on the table next to his beer to stare at John. “What? You get tired of calling me daddy already?” Whoa, why hadn't John noticed his eyes had a gold, almost orange tint to them? Oh right, shades... duh.

“Bro, come on man really?” Dave half growled, half whined petulantly and lazily waved his hand off the table a bit towards John. “His name's Dirk.”

Dirk leaned the chair back on it's legs, tipped his head politely in affirmation towards John, mumbled something about buzz kill and took a long swallow from his beer. He watches as Dirk's adam's apple bob up and down while draining the bottle. John was suddenly glad Dave had talked him into letting his brother play Luke's part for the movie despite his initial reluctance to allow it.

Honestly though, and he wouldn't admit it out loud, John had hoped Dave would step into the part. Mostly since Luke was based off of him.

Of course, that was Rose's fault.

Okay, so that wasn't fair to her. She had only suggested it so John could work out his issues of being stuck in the same place as his best friend, who he just happened to have a boner for. He knew that a relationship wouldn't work long term between them, even if Dave agreed to date him, but mostly that he wasn't willing to give up the long time friendship he already had.

So one day John was telling her how Dave was bitching about his bro harassing him with the latest romance novel he was reading while they talked on the phone. That's when Rose had pushed him to write out his emotional turmoil in romance novel format. John had rejected the idea outright obviously, partly because it was a dumb idea and he never considered writing before. But then Rose explained if Dave came across it John could brush it off as his own attempts to harass Dave. Allowing himself to not only save face, but protect himself emotionally from the hurtful truth should Dave reject him, or worse, end their friendship.

Dave never found his writing and things had been fine and dandy.

That was until John had been idiotic enough to agree and let her read the writing he'd done so she could better understand how to help talk him through things.

Rose had gone out and gotten the shit published. He hated and loved her for that, but if he had known she...

“Hello.” Dave's had waved in front of his face dragging him off a memory lane, beating him ruthlessly and left him in the ditch with the realization he'd been staring down Dirk for a good ten minutes. “And... he's back.” John exchanged a glance with the two of them, Dave frowning concern and Dirk's amused smirking concern.

“Sorry...” He tried to shrug off the zoned out awkwardness. “Just got stuck thinking about the movie is all.” He took a sip of beer to cure a suddenly dry throat. “Dave asked for an alternate ending soo... kinda working on thinking up some ideas.”

Dirk was nodding appreciatively as he sat the chair back down on all fours raising a hand to point at him, and he was suddenly getting warm from a nice buzz. “You know, when Dave told me that you wro-” Dave kicked him in the shin. Hard. “THE. FUCK. MAN.” Dirk choppily barked as he quickly jerked towards his brother in an aborted counter assault, jaw clenched, mouth a thin line, frown lines popping up on his face as he stared Dave down angrily.

To Dave's credit he didn't even flinch despite the very real threat of a straight up fight in the middle of a food joint with his older brother. Who in the past had, and could, kick his ass. “Public.” He lowered his chin and glared over his shades at Dirk biting out his words. “Home. Clear?” He arched an eyebrow questioningly.

It had all happened so fast John hadn't even had time to form a reaction. The longer he sat there observing the situation the more he noticed about Dirk. Like his neck, and the flexed muscles of his chest and the tendons of the arm grabbing the thigh of his non injured leg tightly. This... this wasn't going well.

John loudly clapped his hands together to distract their attention. “Okay then!” John jovially announced. “So now that we got some tasty burgers and booze filling our bellies, what's say we head to Dave's house and start in on some work.” He smiled big hoping to kill off any remaining anger, because he wasn't enjoying the tension.

Dirk shook his head back in forth with a frustrated grunt. “Sounds like a plan to me.” Dropping his obvious anger, putting on his shades, standing up, and started walking gingerly out of the joint.

Dave used his brothers turned back to look at John and mouth a silent thank you, to which John just shook his head and shrugged no big deal before they both got up and followed the older Strider outside.

He was by the cars passenger door we they caught up, hand on his hips blowing out a long breath of frustrated air. “Dave...” The car was unlocked now, but they turned to look at each other over the roof instead of getting in. “Sorry, I wasn't thinking.”

Dave nodded his head agreeing.

“But!” Dirk rested his arms on the roof of the car, finger pointing across accusingly. “If you ever so much as kick, slap, bite, or some other stupid shit that ends in me needing to whoop your ass. From now on, I don't give a fuck if we're in public, or if John tries to stop me. We'll handle shit back at your place one on one until the movie's done and I go back home to my lovingly empty little apartment to recover from all this BS. Got it?” John and Dave both nodded yes. “Good, cause when we get to your place I'm gonna kick your ass.” He yanked open the door, plopped into his seat, and nonchalantly closed it after him.

John looked at Dave. Dave looked at John. John smirked.

“I'm gonna record it.”

“The fuck John.” Dave whined, shoulders slumped. “So not cool dude.”

 

 

\-----

 

 

The tension in the car was thick on the way to Dave's. He could feel the waves of anxiety and dread floating off his little bro. Dirk didn't actually plan on kicking the kid's ass, but he did deserve some sort of punishment after the shit he pulled. He figured the threat of punishment would do the job well enough.

Dave could've easily just shushed him or interrupted in some way infinitely less asinine, and painful for fucks sakes.

He'd been feeling the tingling up and down his leg since he got into the car. The entire area was going to be bruised as all fuck and tender for a good while, but Dave didn't need to know that. The fucking shit. Ego be damned did this fucking suck, Dirk would have to be careful standing out of bed in the morning.

The turn into the driveway was such a quick jerk his leg smacked against the blade still wedged between the center console and his seat making a new blossom of pain spread across his leg with a throb. Yeah, he was going to have to grab some ice for that crap.

Dave turned off the car and piled out quickly along with John heading towards the trunk of the car. Dirk took his time and made a point to shake out the new pain in his leg before putting any weight on it again. He wanted to avoid a visible limp, not intending to live up to the old man image yet.

At the back John had already grabbed his own bags and had Dirks pack slung over his shoulder.

“Well ain't that just real sweet of you, being all helpful.” He held out his hand for his bag not wanting to taking any chances of his stuff being gone through. “Gimme the damn pack.” Nope, no chances being taken with 'things' being found. He checked that shit for a reason when he could've easily used it as a carry on.

“Oh.” He said, looking a bit confused. “I just figured since you and Dave were gonna have a 'heart-to-heart' out I could just bring the stuff insi...” He stopped with a huff after Dirk open and closed his hand a few times, head cocked to the side. “Okay, okay.” John held up his hands in mock surrender on the way to slinging the pack off and handing it over. He gave John a wink as he heft it over where it rightfully belonged, his own shoulder.

Dave didn't wait around to watch the exchange, having already started towards the door after grabbing his sword out of the car leaving them both to catch up. He was nice enough to hold it open as they caught up and walked inside the house with their bags though.

It was a modern take on a single story 50's contemporary house. There was a warm retro feel to the place. Crisp dark black leather sofa's from were he could see, a brownish classic funky geometric wallpaper, a fireplace with thin flat stacked stone, and brownish red accents here an there. Dirk was a bit surprised considering what style he thought Dave liked. The outside of the house blended in with the neighborhood well enough so he'd figured it would have been full of the latest modern styles and new electronics.

It kinda reminded him a bit of how he redecorated the apartment, ironically, and he couldn't keep the smirk off his face.

John had moved off down the hallway to the left, having obviously visited his friend before and knew where he'd be sleeping. Dave closed the door and pointed the way John had gone with the hand holding his sword. “You're across the hall. My room's on the other side of the house behind the kitchen.” He shrugged uncomfortably. “The office is next to it. You can use this one, have some others next to my desk.”

Dave tossed him the sword and started to walk off but Dirk took a small step back, blocking the path out of the entryway and into the living room, handed back the blade, and put his hand on his little brother's shoulder.

“Hey.” He waited until Dave meet his eyes. “This is a nice place. You did good for yourself and you've grown up into an awesome dude, despite the shit I gave you as a kid. I'm proud of you Dave.” His little bro looked at him dubiously, likely unsure where Dirk was going with this. Probably because he didn't exactly tell Dave that often. So what if he was making up for it now?

”That being said, I've changed my mind on kicking your ass right now. We're not gonna duel today, partly because I'm tired as fuck, but mostly because we're gonna act like adults about this shit and show some respect for each other.” Dave looked shocked so he squeezed his shoulder for reassurance. “I ain't mad at you.” He couldn't hold back the annoyed snort. “Pissed off that you kicked me like jackass brat? Sure!” Dirk frowned at him angrily to emphasize the point. “But you're ain't gonna do that anymore, are you?”

Dave lips parted slightly showing his shock without full on jaw dropping over the revelation, he then nodded slowly in agreement. “Yeah, yeah that'd be cool. Less egg shells to stomp on like some grapes of wrath interpretive dance number performed by inebriated gorillas in the room.”

Dirk nodded back and gave his shoulder another quick squeeze before letting go with a pat and heading towards his room, listening in as Dave shuffled off the other direction behind him.

Good, maybe things would go smoother between them now. He gave himself a little mental pat on the back as well, even if he didn't deserve it because he coulda fucked that up, but he hadn't, or at least he didn't think he had; Fuck.

Both doors were open when he got down the hall so he took a peek into the left one. John was unpacking clothing and shoving them into a dresser. When he noticed Dirk looking he gave a wink and a wave. Damn was that just down right domestic, cute.

Dirk waved back and turned, walked into the room on the right, dumped his pack on the bed, tossed his hat on top along with his shades before slowly falling on it face forward.

 

Fuck.

 

Yes.

 

Soft cool blankets, not to hard, or too soft, he could totally pass out right here, right now. Specially since he'd been awake since the ass crack of the morning AND the weight was off his throbbing leg.

He turned his head towards the end of the bed and spotted the open door into a unlit private bathroom. Maybe unpacking his bag wasn't such a lame idea. It was going to be a long while before he headed home anyways. If Dirk was going to have privacy, maybe he wouldn't have to find any crazy ways to hide or distract people from seeing his toys like he did when Dave was younger.

A hand knocked on the frame of his door. Dirk flipped over onto his butt with his arms propping him up against the give of the bed. Ah! Right...

Scratch that privacy idea, there was a door directly across the hallway. Even if John was blocking his own door at the moment.

“Sup.” John was staring at his belt line, so he looked down wondering if he had popped a ghost boner, but it was just his untucked shirt showing off his happy trail. Dirk looked back up at his face. “Well, not that if you're wondering.” That caught his attention and snapped him outta whatever la la land he'd been in.

“If I remember,” The shit was smirking. “There's a pill for that. Also, Dave said he had some contracts for you to sign in his office before you can do any work in the movie.”

Dirk stood up, immediately regretting putting weight on his leg. “Clever fucker ain'tcha.” Raising his leg a bit to shake it out, hoping it would help again, it didn't, so he just put it down and leaned more on his good one. “Maybe that's the reason the books you made are such a good read.” He moved towards the doorway, expecting John to move to the side so he could exit the room but ended up stopping half way when he didn't. “They're some of my favorite cause how you write the characters personalities and quirks. Humor is pretty good too, reminds me of when Da-”

“Doyouwantsomeicefor that?” John blurted out stiffly, words all mashed together like an Iggy Azalea lyric.

Dirk blinked a few times dissecting the mess. “-ve... Huh?”

“Doesn't your leg hurt from Dave kicking the shit out of it?” John pointed at said leg accusingly with one and propped his other against his hip. “I can get you an ice pack or something.”

Dirk couldn't say his ego enjoyed the offer, propping fists against his hips, opened his mouth to sass, then stopped himself and closed it. John was just trying to be nice and didn't deserve that shit, so he shook his head to chase the frustration away.

“Maybe later after I sign those papers and crash out for the night.” Awe fuck it, not sassing this little shit would just leave him in sour mood the rest of the day. “I can get it myself though. You don't gotta play nurse for me. Unless you just really enjoy prancing around in that sorta outfit.” Dirk smirked self satisfied and brushed some imaginary lint of his shirt like a preening peacock.

John moved to the right side of the doorway raising a hand in front of him while putting the other behind his back like a butler. “After you then... sir.” He sassed, tilting his head with a return smirk.

Something was up, and Dirk didn't like how the cards had shifted. He chewed on the inside of his mouth to figure the taste. “Huh.” He shook his head bemusedly and sauntered his way to where John had been standing in the door, stopping to give the shit a sidelong look.

No time like the present to see where this little game was going after all. Dirk walked out and turned the corner...

He heard the slap before he felt it.

 

 

\-----

 

 

John wasn't sure what had possessed him to think that slapping Dirk's ass was a good idea, and the look he got in return for the assault was well deserved. He raised his hands up in surrender with a pathetic smirk. “Sorry! It won't happen again...” John got an eyebrow raised in response.“... unless you ask for a spanking that is.” The look was back and he felt three inches tall.

Great. Good job. Way to make a total fucking ass out of yourself John.

He sighed and lowered his head defeated. “Yeah okay, so that was a shitty thing to do.”

The hall wasn't big enough for them both to stand side by side, but there was enough room for them to both stand face to face comfortably or for one person to turn and slip by the other. Dirk wasn't moving, he was turned sideways to stare him down a bit more, and god did John wish he was still wearing his shades so he couldn't see the full on frustrated disappointment in those eyes.

He was contemplating just making a run for it past Dirk and into the backyard of the house to escape, or turning tail and sneaking into his own room and locking the door. Fuck it hadn't even been a full day and he'd already shit all over things despite his good intentions.

Dirk cleared his throat for attention and John snapped his face up to meet his gaze again. “So... You've got me in a bit of a rough spot here kiddo..”

“Daddy...” John slapped his hand over his mouth and slammed his eyes shut. Fucking automatic sass digging him into a deeper shit hole. For fucks sake he should slap himself stupid over this shit!

Dirk rolled his eyes so hard his head rolled with them, angrily huffing a groan crossed his arms an started to pop a few finger knuckles. “Let's agree to take a timeout with the shit for a moment and have a heart-to-heart no bullshitting conversation.” He fixed his eyes on Johns now open ones. “Can we do that?”

He wasn't so sure, but he would give it a hard try so he nodded a yes. Even crossed his other arm over his chest to kept the hand on his mouth as a fail safe rather than shoving a sock in it. Not that a foot wouldn't be there soon if he wasn't careful.

“I get the feeling you haven't been in a relationship before and don't really know how to act out or control impulses when it comes to hitting on a person. Am I right?” Dirk crossed his arms over his chest while asking.

Well... that was sorta a loaded question. He wasn't wrong but he wasn't totally right either. He took the hand off his mouth and waved a so-so. “Part one; yes. Part two; no.” So far so good, right?

“Okay then, I'm gonna ask you to keep your hands to yourself then unless we're working out in a gym and you're spotting me, or we're both having a thrown down.” He uncrossed his arms and propped them back on his hips. John wasn't sure but maybe the guy was just as fidgety and uncomfortable as he felt right now.

“Yeah okay. Sorry about that again.” He nodded and scratched at his own chin, wishing he could undo the shit he just did, still wanting to be on good terms with Dave's attractive brother. “No more flirting then either I guess?” Yeah, John had fucked up... he was just now aware of how much he had. In a house with two Strider's he apparently had the hots for? Ha! What a joke of painful self torture.

Oh god, what if Dave...

Dirk's chuckle snapped him back again. “Hell nah, I'm enjoying that shit. I just don't enjoy the idea of my ass getting a beating every time I turn around over stupid shit.” John felt like a damned puppy who thought it's master was gonna kick it, but then found out he was getting a treat. The smile was going to break his face. “Don't get the wrong idea now.” He was a kicked puppy. “It's just going to stay bullshitting. I'm probably too old for you, plus it would be weird for me with Dave being your best friend.” Dirk help up a hand like a stop sign. “Also, we can't keep up the daddy and kiddo shit forever... that'll get old real fast. Let's just stick to names for a while okay?”

In the back of his head, he knew things would be this way. John wasn't sure why he'd gotten the idea in his head that there was some reciprocation of want, at least reality was good at reminding him of his place. Well, no point in trying to put in effort where none was needed.

John lowered the hand from his mouth for a shake, wanting to be done and over with this conversation so he could move on from the awkward moment and go to his room to work. Nothing like writing to help ignore or work through emotional hang-ups. He could get started on making the outline from the plot he thought up at lunch. Hell working on finishing up the script could keep him busy and out of Dave and Dirks way for a good week if he maneuvered things right.

Mind made up, John nodded in resolution as Dirk shook his hand with a firm grip. “Yeah, sounds like a plan.”

“Oh, one last thing.” He sounded just a little too pleased with himself as he spoke.

“What?” John wasn't sure that he could handle another stipulation, but it wasn't like he wasn't in any position to argue.

“Would you mind leading the way?” Dirk motioned with one of his arms for John to walk in front of him. Probably couldn't trust him even after agreeing on hands off.

John nodded in understanding and passed by him heading towards the entry way.

The slap to his ass stung and he could help the yelp that escaped his mouth. “Fuck!” He turned on Dirk, mouth gaping.

“Consider us bother even.” He was shaking his pointer finger towards John. “Besides, you deserved that spanking from daddy after being a bad boy don't you think?”

John was trying to work the shock out and stop the excitement taking control of his emotions by uselessly moving his mouth open and closed. But mostly he was trying to rub the stinging handprint out of his ass. “I'll keep that in mind. Fucking shit did you have to slap it so hard?!”

Dirk grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him to face the entryway, pushing him into a walking march. “Eh, maybe not. But it won't happen again. Unless you ask for a spanking...”

John couldn't fight back the groan of pain.

 

 

\----

 

 

Dave meet them in the kitchen tossing the file of papers he had on the table with an angry huff. “I leave you guys alone for like half and hour and you go total recall on me.” He slid out a chair from the table and flopped down into it.

He didn't want to know. He knew, but he didn't want to. “Are you two done playing grab ass in the hallway?” Dave pointed at Bro with a finger then to the file. “Cause I need your ass to sign on the bottom line of the shit before we can do any fucking work this week, next week, or any week of production.”

“Yeah I think we're good now.” Bro shrugged as he dragged a chair back, scrapping the feet against the tile before sitting in it backwards. “Just had to sort some boundaries stuff out.”

Well, it better be a day one thing only because fuck if his sanity was going to handle this shit being a daily ass slapping good game fest. Dave wanted to destroy his eardrums with q-tips now to avoid that potential future, but work demanded he keep them. He had lost control of his life someplace, perhaps he needed to put out a lost poster for his sanity.

John was busy standing to the side silently rubbing at his ass guiltily. Dave shot a questioning look at him but apparently he was lost in thought or just ignoring him.

“Got a pen or something?” Dirk was already half way through reading the stack surprisingly.

“Sure you're actually reading that?” He got a look in return. Shit damn, who pissed in his snow cone fuck man.

Dave grabbed the pen in his shirt pocket and roll it across the table while getting up to grab a beer from the fridge. He didn't normally drink, but today's stress levels needed some sorta compensation.

“Anybody else want one?” Dave held out a bottle as he grabbed his own and received a chorus of grunted 'sure's in return and made sure to grab a handful more to bring back to the table. “So, any questions for the inquisition? Can't say that I'm expecting many, but you never know when it comes to legal mumbo jumbo and all that jazz hand solo.”

Dirk just pushed the closed folder back towards the other end of the table and grabbed one of the beers Dave sat down.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down guys. We can't all be talking at the same time. It's a down right madhouse with all the conversation going on right now.” He flopped back down into his seat. “I hate to be the person to do it, but somebody has got to Kanye West this nonsense.”

He checked the signatures while taking a swig. All neat and legible, good. But seriously...

“What's going on guys? Why aren't we talking about stuff?” He side eyed John and turned to face Bro, raising a concerned eyebrow. “What, no raised hands, no volunteers? Is teacher gonna have to pick a student? Why am I getting a grade A silent treatment here?” Dave should have known better than to drag them both under the same roof.

Dirk rolled his eyes at him. “Why don't you catch me up on all the drama I missed with this little movie you guys are making.”

Dave snorted derisively, of course Bro would want the dirt. “How about John catching you up on why the fuck all the actors we signed up can't play their roles for shit and then the prima donna's being unable to handle the criticism?”

Finally, John sat his awkward ass down in one of the chairs, even if he was leaning to one side slightly. Bro was smiling like a cat that caught the canary in the coal mine. Dave hoped he wasn't hurt. “You okay dude? Need some ice for that burn?”

For the second fucking time that day, Bro broke down laughing until tears were in his eyes.

Dave finished off the beer and reached for another.

 

 

\----

 

 

After several beers, a few pizzas, watching a live action director's commentary on Dave's latest movie and an impromptu drinking trivia contest between John and Dave while he judged, Dirk was dragging his ass slowly to bed.

Currently, he was wobbling between his good and sore leg on his way through the living room towards the hallway. He'd just finished dropping off Dave in his own room on the far side of the house and John had already beat them both to bed an hour or so before. Partly because he was too drunk to stay awake but mostly because he was a sore loser.

Dirk giggled remembering the look on John's face after realizing he'd said Cick Nage. He'd even pantomimed strong manly tears and sniffling before admitting defeat.

He should probably check on the guy and make sure he hadn't puked on himself or anything. Nothing worse that waking up in stale puke the next morning, aside from maybe smelling it when you have a hangover.

Dirk almost tripped over the step going down into the lowered living room while walking into the entryway. Only just managed to catch himself on his bad leg and a hand against the corner of the wall leading into the hallway. The jolt of pain almost made him say fuck it, crumple to the ground, and just go to sleep on the floor across the carpet and entryway tile.

Except he didn't enjoy the idea of a stiff back in the morning or being rudely awoken in some prankish bullshitting manner.

So he gritted his teeth and dragged his good leg to where he was, worked his way up the wall and stood straight again, or as straight as he could at least. Dirk sighed, content in the knowledge that only a short distance now separated him from a bed. Yet despite his best efforts at drunk balance, he still bumped into the wall and a picture frame while shuffling down the hall, decided that wasn't a good idea, and pressed his forearm against said wall as a sorta crutch against the wobbling.

Until he hit the door frame with his hand.

When had he closed his eyes? What side was he leaning against? Which side was he on again?

A deep guttural groan from the left interrupted his thoughts.

Oh shit, was that John? He better not be puking. Dirk didn't smell any, but he hadn't exactly pushed the door open, not that he'd have to struggle since it was only half assedly closed.

It took a few grabs for the handle before he finally caught it and gently pushed, partly dragged himself, into the room by the door while his left hand held onto the outside frame to prevent another incident of nearly meeting the floor for an up close and personal conversation. Okay, so minor struggle, he earned a mental final fantasy victory fan fair for the effort.

Instead of the sight of a sweaty and dry heaving drunk, Dirk was greeted with a not so close up and partially blurry hello of John fully clothed laying on top of the bed in the middle of trying to convince a whiskey dick hanging out his unzipped pants to be masturbated.

Until he noticed him in the door that is.

Three holes in the ground; well, well, well. Dirk couldn't resist.

“Huh, wadda yah know. 'N here I thought you was suffer'n from hop'n off the happy go pukey ride.” The words were slurred like a... ah... fuck, like a semi-drunk Texan. Minus the convoy, rubber duck, and chorus thankfully. “Nice shituation you got there.” He was just gonna yank the guys chain a bit then leave him be.

John took the arm that was laying across his eyes and used it to hurl a pillow at him grumpily, it missed to the left and hit the wall. “Fuck man... make mind you up, wrong with you...” He covered his face again with an annoyed growl, reaching for the edge of the blanket to cover his waist.

Dirk didn't giggle, he was just doing his Anderson Cooper impersonation that was all. “An'body tell yah you remind 'em of a angry kitt'n?” He let go of the door wobbled to the end of the bed, helping pull Johns shoes and socks off clumsily just trying to be nice before going back to his room. “Want me tah tuck you 'n and give yah a goodnight kiss kiddo?”

“Kiss my ass...” He snapped it out in a huff, but was also still hiding behind that arm.

“Threaten'n me with a good time 'nother night babe...” He noticed John's chubby dick twitch a bit and get harder than when he'd been jerking it. Holy shit, the guy was a grower... Hot. “Huh, guess I'ma have'ta call yah big guy now on.” John moaned.

Shit that was sexy as fuck.

Dirk knew he should just pull the cover over John and leave, but... well... he was being greedy and enjoying the view. He knew both of them were too drunk for consent sadly, and he didn't wanna take advantage.

Though, maybe he could just help him get off on his own?

He slapped at the bare ankle near his hand. “Scoot over, I'mma gonna lay down nexta yah 'n help.”

Dirk was a bit surprised when John did a full body wiggle move. He hadn't expected him to really move much or quickly, maybe an angry groan or a rebuke to leave, and he would have, but John had surprised him. It was enough to give Dirk plenty of room to lay down comfortably against his side, and he walked up the side of the bed to do just that, kicking his own shoes off in the process.

He probably should have expected it though, clearly they were both taking things a bit far simply out of some weird comfortable understanding they had going on. It most likely wasn't healthy and neither was this, but booze could be a convenient excuse for the back the fuck truck up to where he'd drawn the fuzzy line of 'don't fuck up bro' earlier in the day; hopefully.

Dirk moaned as he laid down taking the weight off his leg, he hadn't intended to, but like other things he hadn't intended, there was no undoing what'd already been done. It took a bit of maneuvering to find a comfortable spot, but after turning on his side to face John and using one arm to prop up his head for a better view of things and rested the other against his hip, he'd finally found one.

And it was a very, very nice view even if his own drunk body wasn't young enough to fight against the booze and let himself get it up for his own fun later.

The hand John had been jacking with earlier was brushing against the fabric of Dirk's thigh catching his attention to look down towards it, but the fully hard dick nestled between hiked down pants and a pushed up shirt laying against a muscled hairy abdomen sidetracked him like a car hitting a deer along a wooded road. The things he would love to do with that cock, if only...

John was breathing heavier, deeper, and more often now. Obviously, he was more worked up and horny now than he'd been earlier when by himself. Dirk moved his eyes away from the monster needing attention bellow up to stare at his face.

The curve his neck and adam's apple over the angle of his jaw with a stubble covered chin. The parted lips along with the wet tongue and teeth hiding behind them. The dip of his cupids bow where it meet up with sharp arches of his nose, the nostrils flared from excitement to his... forearm and sweaty palm. “Min' movin your hand? Wanna see yur eyes.”

He huffed, jerked the offending arm to lay above his head while turning to face him with a glassy-eyed glare. “You gonna jerk me or not?” Ah, young people, so impatient, but that didn't mean he couldn't use that to his advantage and teach John the joys of denial.

Dirk leaned his arm and head to nuzzle down against John's temple and get as close to his ear as he could. “Nah, 'm just here tah talk dirty.” The arm resting on his hip moved down to rub little reassuring circles against John's that was still trapped between them, it just also happened to be a convenient was to control that wondering hand. “Imma gonna letcha put on a lil show with that lovely cock of yours. I'fn yah feel like it.” He wouldn't push John, but he also knew that the smile and quirk of his head would be taken as a challenge.

John looked lost between angry and happy.

Dirk rolled his eyes moved the hand pinning John's arm down to grab the hand from over his head, pulled it to his mouth, touching the fingertips against his lips, and kissed them waiting for John to focus on the action.

When his eyebrows furled up and he blinked confusedly Dirk raised an eyebrow back and started to slowly suck downwards on the index and middle finger, wiggling his tongue around and in between the salty digits. He sucked down on them hard before dragging them out with the scrap of teeth leaving them sticky with saliva.

John's eyes had lost any and all focus, having obviously finally understood what Dirk was doing. After giving the rest of the fingers, thumb, and palm the same treatment he dangled the hand through the air towards it's destination and let it go with a drop, moving his own hand to rest atop his hip again while watching.

John hovered it a bit, turned his gaze towards his hand and chewed on his bottom lip like an unsure virgin.

Dirk kissed his cheek and dragged his mouth back down towards the curve of his ear. “No' yur usual hand?” John grunted out a confirming un-uh.

Even better then.

“Squeeze it.” John obeyed, eyes closing shut tightly as his hands wrapped around his shaft. “Mmm... now pu'da lil twist as you go down.” He did, and Dirk watched as the girth of his cock emerged from his hand, coated and slicked with spit.

“Y'kno, 's justa step down from me hav'n my mouth on yah.” John squirmed in his spot. Probably from either being really turned on, the breath tickling his ear... or a combination of both. “Sum'n tells me yah'd like that... woul'n yah?”

John moaned and Dirk noticed precum beginning to dribble from the slit of his dickhead onto his stomach. He wanted to get a fingers worth of it for a taste to figure out the flavor.“Hmm... maybe 'nother time.”

John puffed out a frustrated huff of air he'd been holding. “Fuckin tease.”

He had to chuckle at that. “Course. I was jus' think'n how I wanna lick you clean. Suck on it.” John was stroking up and down without being told to now with a steady pace. It was erotically hypnotizing and Dirk couldn't pull his eyes away. “Wanna get my hands on yah...”

He really did, but he mostly want to be manhandled himself a bit. Dirk drifted off a bit into his imagination, thinking about John getting frustrated enough he'd push him onto his back, biting at his neck, pull his clothing off and start... Ah, but that wasn't likely.

“Fuck...” John was becoming more vocal, seeming to struggle with his non-dominant hand and keeping a rhythm. Dirk took the hand that had been subconscious rubbing circles into his own hip, smoothed it up Johns abdomen swiping up the precum and took a grip under his hand on an upstroke taking over.

John writhed under his grip, hands gripping the sheets on both sides of his body as an anchor.

Dirk knew he fucked up without thinking about it, but couldn't bring himself to stop considering the pleasant sounds coming from John's mouth. He wasn't really trying that hard with the little twists or attention he was giving the head and frenulum on the up strokes, but he guessed John wasn't used to such treatment.

He turned to nip and suck on the earlobe next to his mouth as a distraction to help drag out the pleasure a bit longer since he figured John was probably stupid close to cumming already, but quickly moved on to sucking and biting at his neck instead. Dirk even abandoned using his arm to prop himself up, pushing up John's shirt and slithering under his body to grasp and claw at his hips and chest where he could barely reach or hold onto.

John sucked in a breath and he felt the warm spurts of cum coat the inside of his hand on an upstroke. Dirk pulled away from his neck to watch as he milked John's dick through the orgasm.

Dirk cleaned his hand off on the bed sheet and was pulling it over to help wipe off John's body when he was pulled into a tight hug.

He had no idea what to say or do. Not that he could cause the angle he was at made it hard to do either. Eventually, when John's grip had eased up and he'd finally been able to finish with the sheet and settle back down next to him he'd thought of something.

They'd fucked up.

He'd fucked up.

But...

He felt content, and... “Hey John?”

John didn't respond. Dirk was ready to do an about face on his made up mind, thinking John had sobered up when the gentle snoring hit his ear.

The fucking shit passed out.

He thought about going back to his room, act like it wasn't a big deal and nothing happened in the morning, but figured the trouble of getting back on his feet and dealing with the drama wouldn't be worth the effort.

And he was awfully comfortable where he was at the moment. Enjoy the pleasant thrum of alcohol and hormones in his system. Not to mention the jet lag and emotional exhaustion was finally hitting him full force.

It didn't take long for Dirk to fall asleep.

 

 


	3. Safety Dance

John opened his eyes just a squint. Not in the mood for an instant migraine due to midday sun. The outside light filtering in and hitting the ceiling told his blurry eyes that it was likely early morning still but he would be feeling the wrath if he chose to keep them open too long, so he closed them again.

Normally after a night spent drinking at Dave's, John would have woken up to the throbbing ache of a hangover. Well that, and the urge to piss out his entire insides. That had woken him up though, thanks to a leg draped over the lower half of his body and a knee putting weight on his bladder.

There was also and arm slung over his chest and a face buried between his head and neck.

He didn't remember much after the drinking contest but apparently Dave had dragged his ass to the guest room and passed out on top of him again. John groaned in frustration. How did he keep getting himself into these situations? He craved this intimacy with his friend and hated it just less than he hated himself for enjoying it so much. But his bladder demanded that he get up and pee now.

John pushed the arm off him and started rolling from under the leg to the side of the bed away from Dave's warm body when that same arm and leg pulled him back up against his friend. “Ugh, come on Dave.” John rasped, tasting the morning breath in his mouth. “Lemme go pee...” The arm and leg let up, and he finally rolled to the side of the bed to sit up when he realized the first thing.

That his dick was hanging out from where his boxers and slacks had been unzipped and pushed down passed his ass. “Wha?”

John looking over his shoulder is when he realized the second. That wasn't Dave.

He grabbed his glasses from where they were sitting on the nightstand, thankfully on his side of the bed, and shoved them on as quickly as his uncoordinated self could.

Dirk was laying on his back, face relaxed and mouth slightly open in sleep. The arm that had been holding John laid across his chest, just under his shirt where it was half way worked up his body. Exposing the bottom of a hairy chest and nipple along with a taught stomach and devastatingly delicious happy trail and a pale scar stretching from his bottom left rib down to his belly button. Part of the blankets still covered up his legs and John sat there staring, wondering if the guy had morning wood or not before mentally slapping himself.

Did they have sex? He didn't think they had, but John could partly remember jacking off and had a better memory of their talk in the hallway. So drunken make outs then?

His bladder gave another painful reminder that it was not to be ignored for emotional turmoil. So he grabbed the belt loops on his slacks, pulled them up and held them closed all while standing up and doing his best to not fall face first into the floor. Shuffling off afterward towards the bathroom door across from the end of the bed.

It took a few failed attempts to grab the door before he could gently close it behind him with one hand before feeling up the wall for a light switch. John squeezed his eyes shut before turning it on. Gave himself a minute of blinking slowly before the light stopped being so blindingly bright and he could walk his way to the toilet without tripping over the floormat.

While taking his well-earned piss, more snippets of what happened that night came back. Not much, but it was enough to frustrate and distract him to the point of accidentally peeing on the rim of the toilet, and therefore his slacks.

His brain made sure to supply him with the irony of taking a piss on a John via a John.

Crawling back into bed clearly a lost cause, John pulled his clothes off and turned the shower on. Wishing that the rest of the day would go better than this as he stepped in.

 

\----

 

Dirk normally woke the fuck up whenever he felt like it. Which was usually at the ass crack of noon in Houston.

Then he'd hit the gym in the lower part of his building before heading the roof.

Basically, just because he could wake up early as fuck in the morning, didn't mean he wanted to. Let alone do it two days in a fucking row.

So when his comfy bara body pillow decided to get up out of bed, he was having none of that, until John had called him Dave. It had been a rude but temporary wake up, so he let go and rolled back onto his side of the bed to lovingly drift back into the realm of sleep and ignore the world until he was good and caught up on his quota of hours to be passed out.

Except his brain was having none of it. Knowledge of what had happened hours before along self-doubt niggled away at his sanity. Leaving him an exhausted grumpy mess of a man laying in his younger brothers best friends bed, hyperaware of everything going on in the room and attached bathroom.

He knew when John had finished peeing a god awful amount. It was no wonder he had to get up so goddamn fucking early. Knew when he'd hopped into the shower. When he got out of the shower. When he was brushing his teeth; rinsed then spit. When he'd opened the bathroom door. Drop stuff off in the hamper outside of said door. Heard John's footsteps on the carpet as he walked over to fully close the bedroom door Dirk had left open last night, and when he turned and walked back and sat on the side of the bed before leaning over and poking him in the side with cold fingers and a tired “Hey.”

Dirk winced, wishing he hadn't jerked away so noticeably from the poke. “Wh-a?” Unfortunately, his throat was dry and it came out sounding more like a grumpy bullshitting frog.

John huffed and attempted to poke at him again but this time, he was able to slap it away. “Dirk we need to talk about last night.” Dirk didn't want to talk about last night yet, he wanted to sleep another six hours and have a functional brain to talk with.

Opening his eyes with the intentions of glaring John down revealed that when he'd left the bathroom, it was with a single towel and not yesterday's clothes as he had assumed.

Dirk saw a water droplet descend from John's hairline down his spine, past nicely muscled shoulders, and drop straight down between the ass cheeks that were barely peaking above the towel wrapped around his waist. The wheezy “Fuck” escaped Dirk's mouth before he could stop it. It didn't help either that John's glasses were half steamed up and his eyes were still droopy from sleep. Giving him the appearance of a porno sexed up stud looking for a good time.

“I don't know.” It was John's turn to raise an eyebrow. “Did we?”

Dirk made sure to clear his throat before attempting talking. “No, just help'd you a handy.” Then closed his eyes again because the site was just too much for him to focus with right now. “Was drunk.” He inhaled and exhaled a deep sigh. “Won' happ'n again.”

“What if I want it to happen again?” He sounded lost between confused and grumpy.

“We talked about this yesterday.” Dirk sighed. “Too old. Weird for Dave.”

“Yeah, says the guy who's in my bed right now.” John's tone shifted towards frustration. “What you say, and what you do, is not matching up Dirk.”

“Why aren't you mad at me bout that?” Dirk cracked open an eye to look at him. “What do you want from me?” The expression on John's face switched from exasperation to pure 'are you shitting me'. “Look, we hardly know each other, and already we're doing stupid shit like....it's.... ” A yawn was forcing its way out and he struggled against it. “no..... biggy. How... is...” The yawn won, and Dirk couldn't fight against the jaw popping, arm stretching force of it. John didn't take the opportunity to talk over him like other people would have and Dirk appreciated being allowed to finish up his thoughts. “How's this realistic? Why're you okay with it?" He grumped. "What's all this shit to you right now?”

John didn't respond to Dirks' questions immediately. Instead, turning more fully onto the bed facing towards the wall behind it, staring at the wall as he thought.

The empty silence stretching out into a weird but comfortable bubble. Sunlight filtering in the room was starting to brighten, and Dirk could feel his eyes fighting him to stay closed longer each time he blinked.

“I really don't know what to think." John shook his head. "I'm not mad, but I'm also not jumping for joy here.” He huffed and scratched at his half dry hair. “It's frustrating.” John turned back to look him in the eye. “Yeah yesterday was some bullshit and not cool. I'm not angry but I don't want to do the stupid high school thing.” Dropping his hand back down to the bed. “I wanna date and see where things go. If you don't want to, fine, but I'm vetoing any friends with benefits shit.”

Dirk mashed the palm of his hand into his face and groaned. So much for 'him' setting the boundaries. Apparently John was more mature when it came to being clear about that shit. “Look, I have very healthy respect for your writing. I also have, what I would consider, a very mid-life crisis crush going on right now.” Flopping his arm back down he could see the smile growing on John's face. “If you were writing this shit, how many ways would us dating go really fucking tits up wrong?”

“Oh...” The smile died just as slowly as it had come to life. “...shit.” John leaned over and sunk his face down into the rumpled up bed sheets. “This is some grade A daytime drama bullshit isn't it?” Barely escaped in a muffled huffiness from the linen.

Dirk hummed in agreement. It may have taken a bit, but the guy finally caught on. “Tell yah what.”

“Hm?” John's buried face turned to look at him, pushing his glasses askew and Dirk's chest reminded him how fucked he was.

“If you can wait until after this movie drama is over,” Dirk stretched his arms above his head and inhaled deeply, “so we can get to know each other better.” then huffed out his own frustrated sigh. “I'll take you out to dinner and we can talk about hooking up or whatever. Then talk to Dave about it and watch his head explode.”

John sat back up then practically sprawled over the bed to prop his chin up with an arm about half a foot from Dirk's face. “Hmmm....” The contemplative purr and mischievous eyes reminded Dirk's dick that it still existed and did not enjoy being ignored for such long periods of time. “Ok. A few months isn't too long.” John bit his lower lip with a smile. “But I want a temporary goodbye kiss.”

Dirk huffed, “Really?” because really?

John dropped the hand propping his chin up on the bed to properly nod a yes and talk easier. “If shit's been going fan hitting novel style cliché, best keep with the theme or risk pissing off the deities of stupidity.”

He had a superstitious point, but Dirk didn't feel like arguing in circles over something he wanted to do anyways. So he rolled his eyes at John, and John rolled his eyes back with an amused blown off 'Pft'.

“Okay...” Dirk starts as the bed dips from a bounce. “...how-mph!”  John is laying halfway on him, pulling his head back with one hand in his hair, kissing him slowly, with lazy bites dragging away at his lower lip before coming back to explore deeper with his tongue.

Dirk could taste the mint toothpaste John used earlier, and yeah, he could get used to this being a normal thing.

Then John's knee finds it's way up between his legs, turning his dicks former interest into a full hard on before Dirk's able to lift himself up to near sitting and push him away. He can't help laughing with amusement while catching his breath from the kiss turned way more. “Just a kiss huh?” Pushing John further until he rolls onto his side and off him so the covers can be tossed off his legs. “I'm pretty sure that was you attempting a full on make out session.” He turned to sit on the side of the bed, making a point to look away from John. The angle was hell with where the fabric pressed up against his dick, but Dirk figured that he needed a shower and a change clothes anyways.

“Eh,” He's kind of amazed by how John seems able to shrug stuff off like water from a duck's back. “give a starving man some food, then tell him to forget about eating for a few months. Can't get mad at me for trying.”

Dirk finds his shoes hiding under some of the sheets that fell off the bed and grabs them before standing up. Then promptly falls when his bruised leg doesn't like the weight being put on it. He catches himself with the back of his arm on the bed before his head can bash itself into the nightstand but not well enough to prevent sliding completely to the floor.

“Holy shit!” John is off the bed and crouching over him, looking and feeling for head injuries before Dirk can fully process what just happened. “Are you okay?” He notices that John lost his towel but does his best to ignore it.

“Yeah.” No. He just fell on his as in the most uncool, unsexy, old man and embarrassing way possible in front of the guy causing his brain and cock to fight over the blood supply in his body.

Fuck life.

Fuck the gods of stupidity.

“You sure?” John purrs.

“YES.” Dirk snapped, angry at himself more than the situation or John's concern. “My leg just up and fucked off from Dave kicking the shit out of it yesterday. That's all.”

“Oh damn.” He looked at his legs then back. “Yeah, that was really shitty of him.” A shit eating smirk crossed his face. “Want me to kiss it better?”

“No." John was going to be the death of him, he could see it now. "That requires taking off my pants, and I can see that ending in other activities. Just give me a minute and I'll get up.”

“I can kiss that better too.”

For. Fucks. Sakes.

“I get it. Your libido won't allow you to resist my Adonis-like bod.” Dirk really needed John to stop pushing him, because he didn't exactly have the willpower of a eunuch. “But can we pretend I didn't just fall on the floor like some shitty ironic love story trope. Get up, go to my room, and resume the all too obvious sexual innuendo later.” The shithead was biting his lip again. “Fuckin tease...”

John rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, okay...”

He wrapped his arms under Dirks and around back for leverage, then almost effortlessly hoisted him up along with him while standing up. Dirk swayed a moment before leaning heavily on his good foot, expecting to be let go once he could stand on his own, but John held him tighter against his body. Pressing in to devour his mouth in a slow deep kiss.

If only Dirk could reach down and grab a handful of that bare ass. So he could grind himself up against the fat cock bumping against his hip.

John pulled away from the kiss, dragging his teeth across Dirk's bottom lip. “Did I kiss the booboo away?”

“Swoon.” Goddamn. “Not much fazes yah, huh?” The arms holding him relaxed, allowing Dirk to drop his own down from resting on John's shoulders and gently push him away by the hips. He turned to leave, wishing that being starved of physical contact for so many years didn't leave him so undone like this.

“Want some help with that?” John nodded his head down at the hard on tenting Dirk's pants.

He took that as his queue to escape before something 'would' happen. “Oh, I do.” Dirk sidestepped away and began walking towards the bedroom door. “But not this way. I'm not a total horn dog that can't control himself.”

“Eh, that's fine.” Dirk could practically hear the shrug behind him along with the statement.

”Yeah. Last night the idiot drink just made that too hard is all.” He stopped at the door, turning back to look at John and felt a very strong urge to make himself a liar from the site.

How John stood there smirking, the way his skin and fat stretched over thick muscles, the hair on his chest leading down to his jutting –

“That's fine.” John said, and he looked back up at that cocky smiling face. “Can I still kiss you during filming? If that's okay?”

“Hella.” Dirk mumbled it dumbly while nodding his head in affirmation. To focused on forcing himself to leave John's room and quickly make his way across the hallways and back to his own.

He closed the door quickly, opened and closed his own, and began kicking off his shoes and socks along the way to the bathroom. Dirk somehow managed to pull his pants and underwear off while turning the shower on, but jumped in and got his shirt half soaked before successfully pulling that up and off his body and tossing it to the tiled floor.

The water had been cold jumping in, but the shock of it wasn't enough to keep him from cumming like a teenager after a handful of good strokes, too quick to actually enjoy.

“Fuck...” Propping his head against the cold tile above the faucets with his arm Dirk shifted his weight to the good leg to avoid another sudden fall while catching his breath. “fuck...” He was shivering from the water running down his over sensitive skin and looked down long enough to switch on the hot water. “fuck.”

This entire situation was fucked.

He was fucked up. They were fucked up. Dave was going to kill him. Shit, they were going to break Dave. How the shit did this happen. Why didn't he learn? Why did John want... him? This was going to end badly, again. He couldn't handle this shit. Dirk was just too old for this crap anymore.

He sunk down into the bottom of the shower.

“Fuck.”

He'd get out when he could control himself, but right now, it was okay to cry.

 

\----

 

Dave was in his favorite suit, laying half on and half off the couch, nursing his mild hangover by sipping on a cold glass of apple juice and quietly flipping through the morning entertainment channels.

Some of the pictures from yesterday's paparazzi visit at the airport had made it's way to the media. A few had already started debates over the nepotism of him hiring his own brother to play one of the main characters. While some were debating if the rumors were even true since the production had never officially announced any of the actors or actress hired for the movie. Others had ignored that debate completely, instead focusing on how much older Bro was compared to himself and was still somehow 'very attractive' for his age.

It was all rather surreal to be thinking of Dirk as a sexual object. Dave had thought he would be well over this by now considering how often he had seen people staring at his brother's ass. But here he was, grumpy, jealous, slightly proud, and all around very fucking conflicted. How was he supposed to handle practically everybody drooling over Bro, including his best friend...

A friend that up until a few years ago he wasn't even aware had a passing interest in men.

Nope, he got to learn that interesting fact from his friend's studly dad after accidentally hitting on the poor guy. Dave physically cringed at the memory of being rejected and verbally slapped with the reality of his own immaturity and ignorance.

The best thing to come out of that situation had been dadbert teaching him everything he could ever want to know about clothing, manners, and shaving. Not that he had really practiced much of the later two, but good god did he love finely tailored suits, and button up shirts, and dress shoes, and fucking ties. They just made him... feel good about himself.

Dave flipped channels again, unfortunately landing on one that had zoomed on his brother posing near spread legged against the hood of his car. Dirk displaying his flexibility for the ;audience' while Dave himself was in the background doing his best to press his own face into the side of said car. And god if that didn't just bring up more eighth level of hell reminders of cringe-worthy teenage 'problems'.

This entire situation, every facet of it, was entirely Rose's fault. Why did they become friends again?

“Holy shit.” Dave jerked up and nearly out of his skin when John's voice came from directly behind the couch.

“Shit!” Apple juice had splashed out over his hand and onto the carpet.

He should probably get a paper towel for that. Sitting up he looked mournfully from the wet carpet and near empty glass over his shoulder towards John who was sporting his usual lazy style of shirt and slacks.

“I didn't even think he could do that.” Dave couldn't tell if he was truly amazed or confused.

“Am I even allowed to cry about this?” He waved his nonsticky hand at the mess. “It might not be milk, but I feel that we need to hold a funeral for this tragedy. My dear comrade in arms has fallen in the good fight against thirst after a surprise attack. Friendly fire from and not even from behind the enemy lines. How could you do this John? ” Dave pushed his shades up into his hair to playfully glare at him. “Traitor...”

John just shrugged and moved around to sit next to him. “Pff, whatever. You'll live to die another Dave.”

“Day.”

“Huh?” John blinked. “Yeah that's what I said.”

“No you didn't.”

“What did I say?”

“Dave.”

“Oh... well I meant 'day'.” He smiled at Dave shamefully. “Sorry.” Ah, there was that delayed chest crushing sensation had had been expecting. This was all Rose's fault.

John leaned on his arms against the back of the couch “Anyways, what exactly is the plan for today?”

“I see how it is. Murder my AJ, then come after me.” Dave flipped the shades back down on his face. “I should have known this was the long con. This blood feud between our families will never end no matter how much juice is spilt...”

“You and Jade fighting again?” Leave it to John to blurt shit like that out, always. So okay, yeah Jade was mad at him again, but Dave figured he SHOULD also be allowed to also blame that one on Rose and her not so bright ideas.

“Rose told her.” Dave finished off the juice and set the now empty glass on the coffee table. “She mentioned coming down to visit from her trip. I asked her to finish it and not worry 'till we're done and I can send Bro back home.”

John sucked in a breath between his teeth. “Is she?”

Dave shrugged, because how could he know if she was going to fly down or not? He didn't feel like talking about it.

So he flipped the channel again, this time is was a game show instead of news. John took the hint, dragging his arms across the couch and pushing at the back of his head like a kid, “Stop...” before walking on towards the kitchen. “Anyways, we're going down to the lot today. The departments to get their grabby hands all over the new meat and figure out what needs to get done. Should be a quick simple day. So we can start up filming first next week. Just enough time to shove all our shit together into a tidy pile and toss our asses into the garbage can where we all belong.”

He heard a few doors open and close. “You gonna tell your Bro?” John must have found the cereal. There was a crunching echoing from the kitchen between his words. “Or you gonna let me tell him?”

“Ugh...” Another subject he has zero fucking interest of waltzing into like a drunken street sign pole dance. “Fuck, I'll tell him after we get back today.”

“You can't avoid it five ever Dave.” Thanks for the reminder.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks dad I'll keep that in mind.” He didn't intend to be a dick, but he knew that would shut John up.

He half listened to the contestants on the show shout out guesses and half listened to the rummaging John was doing when a roll of paper towels hit him in the side of the face. It bounced off and managed to land on the floor in front of the coffee table. Forcing Dave to get up if he wanted to either use or throw it back. “I'd say thanks...” Grunting as he got up, “but that would imply I enjoy” stepped in the gross wet spot, “being hit in the head by shit.” then reached down and grabbed the roll.

“Could have fooled me.” Cam from right behind his shoulder and Dirk had to catch him when he lost his balance and pitched forwards.

“JESUS FUCK!” He was going to die.

They both laughed at him and Dave very much wanted to drag Bro out to the backyard by his stupid black tank top to strife the smirk off his face.

 

\----

 

Dirk wanted to break something.

They had left the house around noon, and thinking that they would get a chance to grab some lunch, had been dumbshit enough to turn down food at the house. That was almost seven hours ago, two makeup tests, diet consultation, and workout plan with a trainer. Dirk was contemplating offering sexual favors for a god damned poptart at this point.

Well, that or the chance to change out of the current costume and back into his clothes and shades waiting in the changing room. At least they had already finished the other two costumes, but the leather classic barbarian fantasy bikini... well...

“I believe...” The art department director and Kanaya his assigned costume worker were standing in front of him debating the appearance.“...this is the secret to the universe.” The director waved at his hairy chest. “I believe shaving this will save the world.” He looked way too smug about his choice. “Experts don't care, but nerds have opinions.”

Yeah, apparently they do...

“Don't objectify me.” Dirk crossed his arms trying, wanting, to make it clear he found the suggestion to be a shit idea. “What do you think I am? A six foot dildo here for your pleasure?”

He got loudly laughed shushed from the other side of the patchwork plastic divider wall separating the costume department of the shop from the, according to the spray paint on the door, prop department.

Fuck that guy.

“If we do that, these leather straps will chafe and cause a rash.” Bless Kanaya's sweet little goth girl vampire soul. “Making more work for everybody else. Not to mention, leaving the hair fits the style of the time period of the film.” Best seamstress. Good eye. Much taste. Great Wow. “Go talk to Dave about it. I'll let him know my opinion later.” She waved him off, and the guy left in a huff but Dirk could care less at the moment.

“Thank you. It's bad enough that the guy decided that Luke had to wear leather manties.” He swayed back and forth on his legs with the jest. “I'm not exactly gonna jump for joy over losing the chest sweater. Cold enough in this place as is. Makes me get the feeling I'll be used to cut glass at some point.” Dirk smirked and flex danced his pecs to try and get a reaction out of her.

Kanaya just rolled her eyes, grabbing at the leather speedo getup to mark where she'd need to remove an inch at the seam. And making everybody 'manhandling' him more awkward than he thought it'd be was his aching dick. Not in the 'hey you've been ignoring this hard on for too long' kind of way, but in the 'you ignored me for too long and were too rough in the shower' kind of way. Trying to ignore his discomfort was quickly becoming a difficult thing to do. Dirk couldn't imagine why anybody would put up with being pushed around and grabbed like this for a job.

So he focused on Kanaya's outfit to help. It had a really unique style when it came to goth from what he could see. The short hair wasn't something he'd normally see, or the skirt, the lacy blouse was expected though. He didn't really hang around the scene to honestly know all the ends and outs so maybe he was wrong assuming she was goth.

“Just so you know, I hold no interest in the opposite sex.” Dirk blinked. Whoops.jpg?

“I'm also hella gay,” He didn't enjoy shoving that fact out there unless needed, but he was most definitely very, very gay...“so no worries.”

Kanaya gave him a look. “Hopefully not in the lesbian stuck in a mans body way.” Ugh. This crap...

“You have to say that shit a lot?” She nodded in affirmation. “If you need a fake boyfriend, let me know.” The look of relief on her face spoke more volumes than the encyclopedia dramatica. “I'll get you the Bieber blowup doll.” That got a genuine laugh out of her and Dirk gave himself a mental high five for the accomplishment.

“Most of the workers here are good. Dave keeps a tight rope on that thankfully.” Kanaya moved on from the manties up to the leather boob straps under his pecs, lightly slapping his arms away. “But I really do appreciate that you're already less of an ass than the last guy I was working with.” She slid the scissors under the strap to cut it and Dirk got the morbid association of the cold metal on his ribs matching that of a sword. She was careful though and it was nice to have more breathing room after she finished.

“He was a real grabby bastard. I felt terrible when Dave caught him and dragged his ass off though. He was the only actor that had agreed to play the part.” She frowned at him. “I'm not supposed to know that.” Then pulled the strap off and through the loops holding the cape, dragging the contraption to her work bench, talking the entire way. “I thought the movie was going to be canceled. Stressed me out really bad. Bills you know. Now I don't have to explain to momma cat why I can't feed her and the little wigglers.” Kanaya turned, pointing her scissors at him. “I'm glad he talked you into doing it.”

Dirk couldn't help but shake his head shamefully. The only guy? And a manhandling douche canoe at that? Jesus fuck what the hell is wrong with straight guys? Why the heck didn't any one else want the job?

“Well I guess...” He started but then noticed that the prop guy had walked up to her table.

“Ho!” He was an attractive older man... a very familiar looking guy. “You done with this bullheaded self-proclaimed masturbatory tool yet?”

Dirk's jaw dropped, or it would have if he hadn't clenched it so tight he could hear the friction between his teeth.

He watched as realization dawned on English's face.

“Fantastical bobsledding horseshit.” Jake propped himself up against the work bench with an arm, slapping the other on his hip. “Well isn't this just a dandy fornication festival?”

Kanaya looked reasonably concerned between the two of them. “Uhm.”

Dirk closed his eyes, rubbing his fingers against them before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jake.” It was a curt acknowledgment, but how else was a person supposed to greet and ex-boyfriend?

Jake whistled at him appreciatively and threw Dirk off. “You always did keep in remarkable shape.” He chuckled and Dirk looked at him, raising an eyebrow in confusion. Jake waved him off. “Just because I don't fancy myself a roll in the hay never implied I was incapable of grasping the concept of aesthetical enjoyment.” He finished it off with a wink at him and Dirk had to confess, this was most definitely the awkwardest run in with an ex he had to this date.

“Um, thanks? I guess?” Calm be damned. “What the fuck Jake?” He didn't scream it, but he mostly certainly raised his voice enough to be confused with a yell. “I left thinking you hated my fucking guts?” Raising his arm in emphasis. “Now you're half-assed flirting with me? What the hell am I supposed to do? What the fuck am I supposed to think?”

Jake just shrugged opening his mouth to begin talking then closed it and turned to Kanaya. “Ma'am. If it would be most agreeable with you, could you point Dirk towards my workshop once you have finished wrangling in that leather harness?”

“Of course.” She nodded.

“Jake.” He chided.

Jake just walked up to his side, slapping a hand down to pat on his shoulder. “I'm not ignoring you Strider. We'll simply talk later at length with more privacy.” Jake looked at him with a giant smile plastered across his face. Dirk could swear that his heart crushed itself like an aluminum can from the memories of when it seemed more sincere.

Taking a deep breath to fight against it, he nodded a yes calmly. “Ok...” It was almost a whisper, but Jake nodded back that he understood before slipping his hand off and walking away. Dirk followed him with his gaze until he passed through the spray painted hanging plastic door before turning back to Kanaya. “Sorry about that.”

“It's fine.” She looked at him with a sad empathy, and it made him want to leave this place and never come back. “If you want you can change back into your clothes and leave for the day if it's too much. I'll explain things Jake, and I have your measurements so I can help him with the adjustments on the guards.”

Dirk almost walked over and hugged her, but turned and walked away towards the changing room, too emotionally exhausted from the day's activities.


End file.
